


Do You Need to See My Soul?

by ghostlywhitedirewolf



Series: Stucky One-Shots & Prompts [19]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Comfort, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Panic Attacks, bucky saved himself, but steve helped, idk I kinda like this, not graphic so no warning necessary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 06:38:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7834102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlywhitedirewolf/pseuds/ghostlywhitedirewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the lines between reality and memory blur. Those are the times when Bucky can’t pull himself back from the brink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Need to See My Soul?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back bitches (kinda). I've been working on a Bethyl fic and then I was at camp with no internet and now I'm moving house, so expect more fics to come.
> 
> Also, update, I got a new boyfriend and the sex is fucking phenomenal, so although this isn't a smut one, expect lots of those because I have A LOT of new material ;)
> 
> As always, come say hi on my tumblr: ghostlywhitedirewolf (I'm too lazy to link sorry)
> 
> Oh and it's neither beta'd nor proof read because I'm exhausted sorry - feel free to point out mistakes.

-o-

The screams are what get Steve the most. Agonized and raw and uncontrollable.

Bucky knows this.

He also knows that he can’t stop them; they’re as much a part of him as the arm is. It’s taken months for him to be able to leave the tower without ensuring that the arm is covered with a glove, but then, it’s taken months for the American government to see him as anything but a Russian terrorist. 

Bucky supposes the terrorist part is probably correct. Other ‘terrorists’ have been innocents, brainwashed into doing the bidding of another. He’s seen the news, watched the devastation unfold on the screen before him caused by one person who believed in something so strongly that they would commit any atrocity to reach their goal. He’s been in their shoes. 

_Ready to comply._

_You’re my mission._

All they had to say was those nine phrases and he would have blown up the entire world for them.

He’d killed Tony’s parents over a serum because he’d been told to. He’d killed women, children, an entire school because of an instruction given by his handler. Hell, he’d killed the fucking president.

He was practically an unstoppable force once directed towards a target. Ruthless, cold and entirely beyond remorse. Bucky was dangerous.

No. Not Bucky. _The Winter Soldier_ was dangerous.

Bucky is dangerous, he knows that his training will never go away, but he’s not as dangerous as he had been whilst under the control of HYDRA. Bucky understands right from wrong, he knows what he is and isn’t supposed to do.

He knows that most people think that that’s purely because of Steve. He doesn’t resent it despite knowing that it’s not true. Right and wrong was something Bucky had managed to figure out on his own before the explosion that had framed him.

_I don’t do that any more._

And he didn’t. Bucky had lived quietly up until that point, other than the odd stray HYDRA agent who thought him worth their time. His existence had been low key, but not idle. Bucky had begun to work through years of pain and confusion in that dingy little apartment.He’d begun to piece together his life both before HYDRA and also during, trying to fit together the jagged fragments of the Bucky that he’d been and the Bucky he’d become.

For a time he’d considered a new identity entirely, but the thought of throwing away the one thing that he knew for sure had brought him more agony than the physical torture. He’d known that eventually he would need Captain America. Eventually therewould come a point where Bucky wouldn’t be able to find the answers he so desperately needed from agents or the information that the Black Widow had so helpfully dumped onto the internet. 

When the blond man had asked him why he’d pulled him from the river, Bucky had answered truthfully. He hadn’t known at the time why he’d hauled his target out of the water. Nothing had added up, nothing had made sense to him. He’d recognized the man before him, but had no clue why.

Now he does. Now he knows that the man is Steve. Best friends on both playground and battlefield the museum had told him. The museum hadn’t informed him of the stolen kisses in a one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. Hidden glances and prying eyes. Whispers about the two brothers that lived in apartment 109. The dates that Bucky had gone on purely to maintain the accepted facade of the time.

It’s different now. They don’t have to hide it from the world. 

Peggy had known of course, one of their few confidants. Her and the other members of the Howling Commandos who’d seen and understood that all they’d had was each other. The men hadn’t fully understood how their relationship could work, but they’d accepted it nonetheless. Bucky and Steve had been lucky, not many soldiers would have turned a blind eye at what was happening right under their noses, but their squadron had. 

Bucky loves Steve with all his heart. But it hadn’t been solely Steve who’d pulled Bucky out of his spiral. 

Bucky had saved himself. 

But sometimes Bucky just _can’t._ Sometimes the nightmares are too vivid or the regained memory hits him too hard and he almost feels his brain short-circuiting. It’s terrifying either way and Bucky wakes screaming. Anguished, uncontrollable noises that wrack through his whole frame. His breathing is irregular and his lungs feel broken. They don’t pull in air the way that they should and Bucky finds himself reaching out for something to anchor himself.

Before, it had been the sheets or the mattress, now it’s the steady heat beside him. Strong arms encircle his waist and a soft voice murmurs that he’s safe and that he needs to breathe. 

He knows where he is, who he’s with. It’s not cold and sterile and emotionless.

It’s home.

_He’s home._

And Bucky thinks that for now, that might just be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> As always, come say hi on my tumblr: ghostlywhitedirewolf (I'm too lazy to link this time sorry)


End file.
